Perchance to Dream
by SophieDevereauxtoo
Summary: Sophie lets herself get too close to a mark and has a wild dream


The mark is very good looking. I know he's done some evil things but I can't help but be attracted to him with his dark rugged looks and his blue, blue eyes. And when he smiles… It's been so very long.

He's definitely my type. Long, lean and muscular. Sweet and funny. And very, very rich. In a previous life, it wouldn't have mattered at all what he'd done. Now? Now I just want to play him. Just a little bit. Just enough. He has very good taste in wine. I let myself have too much. I want to sell the con. I want to feel the danger. I know Eliot is watching. Keeping me safe. I just want to feel.

He leads me to the dance floor. I let him pull me close. I feel his body pressed to mine. It feels so good. He touches his lips to mine. I want to kiss him. I want to feel.

Suddenly a voice explodes in my head. "Sophie! What are you doing? Get out of there. NOW!" He feels me startle. He knows there's something wrong. He pulls me tighter but the spell is broken. I wriggle away. A quick excuse. A promise for breakfast. A hasty retreat.

The voice is back. It's angry. "What the fuck were you doing? Sophie! Have you lost your mi…." I rip the comm out of my ear. I don't want to hear this. I don't want to hear anything. I grab my wrap and run from the restaurant.

In the cab, my body relaxes. The feelings are back. The longing. It's been such a long time. What I did. What I might have done. It doesn't matter. I just want to feel something. Anything. I don't turn on my comm. I want to be alone.

At the hotel room, I drop my purse on the table. A bath. I need a bath. Hot water on my skin. Burning. Soothing.

I throw my wrap onto the bed. I stare at it. Warm. Inviting. Lonely. My hand is on my breast. I can feel something. It feels good. Something. Where is she? It's been so long.

A soft click. The door? Nate checking on me? He's angry. He hates it when I turn him off. No. Not Nate. Parker? She worries. She watches. I don't mind. I turn my head. No one is there. It doesn't matter. No one can help.

Did the water stop? Did I forget to start it? My head is thick. Drugged? Maybe. Is that what he does? Is that why Nate was angry? I can't remember. My hand feels good. I just want to feel something.

I reach for my zipper. It slides down my back. Fingers follow it. Tickling. Burning. My fingers. My hand on my breast. It feels so good. I close my eyes. I want to feel.

Warm breath on my neck. My head falls back. Hot lips on my shoulder. A moan. A hand on my belly. Should I be frightened? I don't feel frightened. I feel safe. I feel something.

The bed is soft. The body is heavy. More hot lips. On mine. On my neck. On my breast. I wrap my arms around. Around myself? It doesn't matter. It feels good.

Another moan. From inside me? I can't tell anymore. It doesn't matter. All that matters is the dream. The feelings. I finally feel something.

More lips. More fingers. Wet. Warm. They touch me. I touch myself. The noise is inside me. Crying. Screaming. Wanting to get out.

I squeeze my eyes tighter. I feel it. No more thoughts. Only feelings. It's been so long. It feels so good.

An explosion. A flash of light. A feeling. No, not just a feeling. No more words. No more thoughts. Just joy.

Hands. My hands. Lips. A whisper. A smile. Sleep. I feel warm. I feel safe. I feel love.

I wake to blinding light and an unbearable headache. I try to think. What happened last night? My mouth is dry. I was drugged. Of that I have no doubt. I will make him pay for this. It will not be pleasant.

Pleasant. Last night was? No. That's not the right word. The drugs. Missing Tara. It was a wild dream. Still, it makes me feel good. My head aches but my body feels good, satisfied. I reach between my legs. Still wet. Still humming. It was one hell of a dream. One hell of a drug. I sigh. Almost as good as the real thing. Where the hell is she anyway? It's been so damn long. Doesn't she know I need her?

I slowly roll out of bed. I pick my dress up off the floor. Careless. Not like me. Not with an original Vera Wang. I hang it and stumble toward the bathroom. The tub is half filled. The water ice cold. I look at the door. No safety locks. Very careless. Not at all like me. I lean my hands on the vanity and close my eyes.

A memory. A feeling. A whisper. My name. My real name. It wasn't a dream. She was here. I smile. Tara. I still don't know where she is. It doesn't matter. She always finds me. She always knows when I need her. And I will always need her.


End file.
